Hold (Gentry Boys, #5)(38)

“Sit here, Uncle Chase.”

“No, sit here, Uncle Chase!”

“Hold Miss Happy, Uncle Chase.”

“You need a magic wand, Uncle Chase.”

“Uncle Chase, you’re holding Miss Happy too hard.”

Saylor stood in the doorway and cleared her throat. “Let me know when you need a break, Uncle Chase.”

The girls unleashed a torrent of exuberant chatter and proceeded to show me every single object in their bedroom. They had my complete attention and were so damn cute it killed me. I loved them like crazy. The first time I saw them in Saylor’s hospital room, hours after they were born, the sight of them was so surreal. Here were these precious little girls, brand new people where there hadn’t been people before. Such a basic concept and yet so astonishing.

I carefully set Cassie’s stuffed hedgehog down and leaned forward. “Hey girls, I’ve got to go talk to your Mom for a few minutes, okay?”

Cami pouted slightly. “Don’t leave.”

I stood up and patted their heads. “I’ll be back. I promise.”

Saylor was in the kitchen, frowning over a stack of paper with a ballpoint pen hanging out of her mouth.

“Editing,” she explained, dropping the pen. “I’m supposed to release the damn book in two weeks and it just seems like something’s not hanging together.”

I sank into a chair. “You want a second opinion?”

She instantly looked hopeful. “If you’re sure you have time.” I’d edited several of her books before. She was a talented writer.

“I have time. Email me the rough draft.”

Saylor smiled and then started filling a cast iron kettle with water. “I’m on a hot tea kick lately. You want some?”

“Hot tea? It’s about a hundred and thirty seven degrees outside, Say.”

“Well, we’re not outside.”

“Good point. Sure, I’ll take a cup.”

Saylor set the kettle on the stove and turned the dial. She spooned something that looked like shriveled raspberries mixed with dried grass into a container, set out a pair of green ceramic mugs and then joined me at the table.

“So,” she said in a matter-of-fact voice, “what’s eating at you, little brother?”

I felt a smile cross my face. The boys had always cheerfully teased me about the fact that I was the last one to be pulled from our mother’s belly the night we were born. Junior. Little brother. Words always said with affection. I liked hearing them from her.

“Nothing that can’t be cured by a few days of sitting by the pool eating hamburgers and watching fireworks.”

Saylor wasn’t fooled by my easy tone. She drummed her fingers on the table and raised her eyebrows. “How is Steph?” she asked pointedly.

“Pregnant.”

Her mouth fell open. “What? Cord didn’t tell me.”

“I didn’t tell Cord.”

She gave me a puzzled look. “I don’t understand.”

“Well Saylor, when a man and woman get together in a private way-“

“Chase.” She narrowed her eyes. “Seriously.”

“I am being serious. When a man and woman get together a beautiful thing happens which can result in the creation of a brand new life-“

“Knock it off.” Saylor balled up a nearby napkin and threw it at me.

“Okay, but if you ever require further elaboration, remember I do have my full teaching credentials from the state of Arizona.”

“If I remember correctly, those credentials entitle you to teach history.”

“And if people didn’t keep procreating then there wouldn’t be any history to discuss, now would there?”

Saylor suddenly beamed at me, laughing. “This is exciting! I can’t believe it!”

“You thought Cordero was the only Gentry brother who possessed sperm? I’m insulted.”

“Enough with the creative quips there, junior. I just didn’t realize you guys were looking to join us in the minivan set.”

When I stayed silent Saylor bit her lip and cocked her head to the side.

“Oh,” she said quietly. “It was a surprise then, huh?”

“Just a tiny electric lightening bolt to my central nervous system,” I admitted. “Shouldn’t have been. We weren’t careful and I do know where babies come from. Yet somehow the news managed to shock me.”

“Hmm, I know the feeling,” said Saylor with a jerk of her head. Girlish squealing erupted down the hall. “What’s going on in there?” she called.

“Nothing!” answered two sweet voices.

“Precocious little things,” I observed.

“That they are.”

“Take after their devoted uncle.”

“That they do.”

The tea kettle began whistling. Saylor jumped up and carefully poured the hot water into the container she’d deposited the fragrant leaves into before she sat down.

“Just needs to steep for a few minutes,” she explained, returning to the table. “So?” she prodded, nudging me with an elbow.

“What?”

“Are you happy about the baby? Isn’t Stephanie? Are you guys getting married? Are you still going to move into that apartment in Phoenix?”